Chapter 1

Baseball both saved and sabotaged Toby Reyes’ life. Born to a Puerto Rican father and a black mother, he lived with his family in a house that was small but substantial, but when he was 7, his father died of a treatable condition that insurance refused to cover. As money rapidly dried up, they sold the house and found themselves in a single bedroom apartment in Washington Heights. His mother and older brother worked, leaving him on his own most of the time to observe a fundamentally unjust world. But as a young boy who couldn’t meaningfully focus his anger, he mostly lashed out at teachers. Thus, he was suspended frequently and lacked any ambition. Early on, his self-image was that of someone doomed to follow the same path of those before him.

It was early in his life that he discovered his athletic talent. He dominated in pickup basketball games, becoming a name in the community as early as 12 years old. For the first time, he was good at something. A success. And not just that, a noteworthy success. One that people watched and cheered. One that girls wanted. He could dunk by 13. People knew his name. Girls circled him in groups of three or four to squeeze his bicep. He knew all sorts of places around the neighborhood to sneak off when privacy in his apartment wasn’t an option. Whatever girl he had on her knees in front of him became interchangeable; after all, there would always be another. Sex wasn’t about pleasure so much as affirmation that he was wanted, the proof that he was more special and deserving than people around him. A star. He was convinced he’d found his way not just out of the inner city but into the heart of every American.